Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 23 Do you have to go to work early at the cultural center?

The interior of the cultural center is like a hidden paradise, with towering poplars and willows, artificial hills, and simple and elegant pavilions in the courtyard. Lotus flowers are planted in the pond, surrounded by hibiscus and osmanthus trees, resembling an exquisite northern garden.

On the south side of the cultural center, there is a moon gate, facing a climbing trumpet vine, inside which are planted bamboo, as well as various fruit trees such as papaya and melon.

If I love you
It is definitely not like a climbing trumpet vine.

Using your high position to show off.

"Yimin, what do you think of this poem 'To the Oak Tree'?" Director Zhang asked proudly, looking at the lush trumpet creeper with his hands behind his back.

He personally tended all the flowers and plants in the cultural center, and this trumpet creeper was his masterpiece. However, in "To the Oak Tree," the trumpet creeper is described as someone who flaunts himself by using the tall branches of the oak tree.

After that, Old Zhang felt something was off, and he felt that this trumpet creeper lacked the pride of a scholar.

"The author expresses his views on love through the personification of various plants. Through this symbolic artistic technique, coupled with the power of words, the author not only feels the beauty of the characters, but also the beauty of the thoughts, as well as the faint sadness of youthful love."

Liu Yimin casually replied that the poem "To the Oak Tree" is an essential modern poem for later generations. In addition to the original text, it must also be analyzed. This question was a piece of cake for him.

"Haha, love belongs to you young people, we old men don't understand it." Old Zhang waved his hand with a laugh, his wrinkles crinkling together as he smiled.

"Yimin, besides our literary creation group, the cultural center also has a folk art instruction group and a cultural relics protection group," Old Sun introduced, pointing to several rooms on the side.

Several houses had wooden plaques with white backgrounds and red characters hanging on them, and some rooms even had several plaques.

Old Zhang and his companions showed Liu Yimin around the entire cultural center, then handed him several meal tickets from the canteen. The cultural center's canteen served breakfast, lunch, and dinner, primarily for internal staff.

“The food standards at our cultural center are about the same as those at the Revolutionary Committee. If you want to go to the Revolutionary Committee, I’ll give you a few meal tickets from there.”

"Old Zhang, you're too kind. You've already gone to so much trouble today. I see everyone's in a hurry to get off work, so I won't bother you any longer." Liu Yimin put the meal tickets into his bag.

Meal tickets are very different from grain tickets; these meal tickets are only valid at the cultural center.

"Alright, Xiao Liu, take Yimin to the canteen, and then take him to the guesthouse tonight."

After everyone had left, Xiao Liu shook hands with Liu Yimin and introduced himself: "My name is Liu Yunsheng, you can call me Lao Liu. I live in the staff dormitory inside the cultural center. After get off work, except for a very few staff members who live here, everyone else goes home. Those who live here are either employees of the unit who were not allocated housing, or they are single."

Another situation is arguing with your wife.

The canteen and dormitory building were together. When passing through the dormitory area, Lao Liu even gossiped to him about the stories of each household in the dormitory building, his mouth as long as a widow sunbathing at the entrance of the village.

"This is Lao Liang from the folk art tutoring group. He had a fight with his wife. Lao Liang's wife is a haggard woman with a waist thicker than a water bucket. She was betrothed to him by his family when they were children, but Lao Liang disagreed. Later, Lao Liang's father threatened to kill himself, so he forced her to drink water."

As soon as Lao Liu finished speaking, Lao Liang, who seemed to have heard him from inside the house, came out with a stern face, holding a lunchbox in his hand, his collar pulled up high as if he were hiding something.

"Who says you can't force a cow to drink water? It will drink when it's thirsty!" Liu Yimin joked.

Old Liu chuckled: "Yes, that makes sense. Look, the person living next door is..." Liu Yimin suddenly realized that following Old Liu was a mistake; this guy was too gossipy, always talking about everyone else. He really wanted to stay away from this person, otherwise, whatever he said would be exaggerated and spread around.

The cultural center's canteen has only one window, and the food is always the same. Tonight's meal is stir-fried pumpkin and white rice, which is considered a decent meal for Liu Yimin.

"Da Liu, this is Writer Liu who is here to give a report. Writer Liu is young, so you must get him plenty of food. He is the future of our literary world."

Chef Liu carefully examined Liu Yimin and said to Old Liu, "Don't worry, next time Writer Liu comes, I'll give him an extra spoonful."

Old Liu pulled Liu Yimin to sit by the flower bed in the yard and began to eat with relish. The canteen was just a small kitchen with no seating.

"After you finish eating, I'll take you to the guesthouse. The guesthouse is better than the dormitory at our cultural center. If you need anything, just come find me. I'm staying in the first room on the right on the second floor."

Old Liu got married, but only as a half-household; his wife and children still have rural household registrations and don't live with him. They live in the countryside. When he has free time, Old Liu will go back home. His biggest wish now isn't writing, but to resolve his wife and children's household registration issues.

"Little Liu, is this Liu Yimin, the author of 'Mr. Donkey'?" A voice rang out, and it was Old Liang squatting down next to the two of them with a lunchbox in his hand.

"Old Liang, you're quite well-informed." Old Liu pursed his lips again: "I'm thirty-five years old, so you should call me Old Liu by now. Old Liang, Yimin is here, calling me Little Liu makes me lose face."

Old Liang laughed and said, "Alright, you've been at the cultural center for over ten years, it's time to call me Old Liu. When you came, you were still..."

Liu Yimin watched the two bickering with a smile, and quickly ate all the rice in his bowl.

“Yimin, your novel ‘Donkey Water’ is indeed well-written. Do you have any plans to start writing it recently?” Lao Liang asked.

Liu Yimin honestly replied, "Yes, but I've only just thought of it and haven't actually started writing it yet. The production team has been too busy lately, so I haven't had time to write it."

"What kind of subject matter?" Lao Liang and Lao Liu forgot to eat their rice and stared at Liu Yimin's mouth without moving. Then Lao Liang suddenly seemed to think of something and quickly reached out to stop Liu Yimin, saying, "Yimin, let's not talk about it. We are all creative people, and it's not easy to come up with a subject matter."

Old Liu quickly chimed in, realizing the issue was too sensitive and a major taboo. He was inwardly shocked; how long had it been? Yet he had already come up with another topic. Was writing really as simple as eating for a true genius?

The guesthouse has two floors. Liu Yimin's room is on the second floor. Upon opening the door, there's a musty smell. A bed sits in the middle, flanked by bedside tables. On the tables sit thermos flasks with bamboo woven shells. Pulling back the curtains, one can see the cultural center directly through the glass window.

"Yimin, you rest first. We'll talk again at the cultural center tomorrow!" Old Liu glanced at the book Liu Yimin took out of his bag, smiled, and turned to leave the room.

"Old Liu, what time will you be there tomorrow?"

"As soon as possible, our cultural center opens early, but you're different, you don't have to follow the schedule."

The next day, Liu Yimin arrived at the cultural center early and found it empty.

"Is this what you call starting work early?"

(End of this chapter)